It
has been said "To survive within the Arctic takes courage but
to race in these conditions requires a willingness and determination to
push yourself to the limit".

The
young mother polar bear awoke from her fretful sleep; it seemed only a
few hours ago she had managed to persuade her injured young cub into the
snow hole she had made. As the previous night's gale had blown across
the vast artic desert, the damp smell of blood had reminded her that her
injured cub had suffered an open wound to her hind leg where the young
male bear had tried to protect his favourite seal hunting spot.

The
mother bear knew today had to be the one - after 2 weeks of no
food, her mother' milk was not being produced in enough quantity to nurse
her cub. The seals under the ice had played the more experienced hand
of cat and mouse when they came up for air. The mother was desperate
for some fresh meat.

Inspector
Belchamber had tried for the third time to radio in the Resolute base
camp. After 2 weeks of detective work he had tracked down all but one
owner of the shotgun that had the faulty trigger mechanism.

Mike,
Norman and Steven were looking forward to this new dawn as they packed
their tent away for the eighteenth consecutive day, and firmly tied
their body harnesses to the 90 kilo individual sleds
ready for another arduous day ahead in the minus 50 degree wind-chill.

As they carefully ensured no skin was exposed to the brutal cold,
little did they know their body scent had been picked up earlier by the
polar mother - they were about to find out what it must be like to become
hunted and stalked
as they headed directly into her path.